Impression
by Cereal-Killa
Summary: Dying alone seems fine at first. Then you find something to live for. / A Duncan/Courtney story in three parts.
1. Overture

overture

* * *

In a way, it was like that day was my very first.

I woke up. I didn't know where I was. I was in a bed, but I don't know how I knew that. I couldn't remember the yellow walls or the picture frame which held some freckled girl and a blonde.

Lost. That's the only word that can sum it all up. Just so confused, scared, upset, but overall, I was fucking lost.

I ran out of the room shouting for help, and a person grabbed my arm. He was huge, but had a friendly face, and I just didn't know who he was. "Hey, sis, what's the matter?" I screamed, running from him and to a room with a tiled floor.

"Dear, what's wrong-"

"_Who the hell are you people_?!" I screamed so hard my voice came out ragged, outraged sobs racking my body. I didn't know this place. I didn't know where I was supposed to be, or what was, or-

They all looked at me like I was crazy, and I wish I could have told myself to calm down, but I just couldn't remember what it felt like to spin out of control, I couldn't remember how to be angry, and I couldn't remember my own fucking name for Christ's sakes.

I just couldn't remember.

Couldn't remember anything.

* * *

**IMPRESSION.**


	2. She's got problems

**im●pres●sion **_noun_

1. strong effect on the mind or feelings

2. vague awareness

3. mark produced by procedure

* * *

PART ONE:

**impression**

* * *

_1- "she's got problems"_

* * *

My freshman year started out pretty damn interesting. Geoff and I pulled a prank on the principle involving pudding and a hammer. You have fun visualizing that.

Anyway, it was the first day and I was dirt tired. I had been up all night getting high with some buds and could barely keep my eyes open.

Gwen, my other best friend, tapped my shoulder and whispered, "That girl is staring at you."

Gwen always pointed out when girls stared at me. Geoff once told me that she has a little crush on me, not that I gave a shit. She didn't have any tits and I didn't even wanna think about Gwen in that way, it just wasn't possible.

I looked to where she was pointing, and yeah, the mixed girl with freckles was staring right at me.

"She's got problems." Gwen whispered.

I grunted. Other than the staring, she seemed normal enough. Long brown hair that ran to about the middle of her back. Dark brown eyes that were almost black. A school uniform. A large, expensive looking camera hanging around her neck.

"I don't mind her." I didn't. She wasn't a pussy, obviously. Unlike other girls, when I looked at her, she didn't stop staring. She also wasn't staring at me in adoration, but in contempt. An anger of some sort.

I understood her completely. I was pissed at most everything too.


	3. I can take care of myself

PART ONE:

**impression**

* * *

_2- "i can take care of myself"_

* * *

Two weeks later I first spoke to her. We were paired up during a chemistry project 'cause our first names are together, apparently, her name is Courtney which comes right before Duncan. She is quiet but she stands straight. Prideful. The teacher gave us our instructions then told us to begin.

She picked up a beaker, taking some acid or another and filling it in and then putting it over the Bunsen burner. She then looked to me with large dark eyes. "I don't know what I'm doing."

I stare at her. I then hold in my laughter.

"Wow," I grin, but her face stays that same way, pissed off and kind of sad. "Need help?" I offer.

She shrugs. "I don't want any."

I blink. "I asked if ya _need_ help."

"What does it look like?" She proclaimed as the acid mix started to bubble over onto her hand.

"Shit!" I hissed, picking up her hand and pulling it to the sink, running water over it. She limply let me do so. "The hell's the matter with ya?"

She sighed. "I can take care of myself." She pulled her hair from me, brushing back a bang.

I rolled my eyes. "Sure ya can." The blank look in her eyes disturbed me. I sighed. "How about this- I take care of ya, and you take care of me, alright? Just let me help ya and you can return the favor later."

She chewed her lip until I saw blood coming from it. "'Kay.''

"Stop chewing on yer lip." I ordered. She, in turn, only bit harder. I scoffed. "Yer kind of an ass."

"You're kind of ugly."

I chuckled. "Touché." She was brazen, I'd give her that. She then lifted her camera from her neck and snapped a photo of me laughing. I frowned. "Why'd you take a picture?"

"To remember your ugly face by." She said blankly.

I rolled my eyes.

She had gotten my respect.


	4. She's okay lookin'

PART ONE:

* * *

**impression**

* * *

_3- "she's okay lookin'"_

I started noticing her more often. She had apparently gone to a different middle school before this one. There were rumors that she was insane. The only person who talked to her was Malibu Barbie.

"Also known as the love of my life," Geoff proclaimed as we sat down in the cafeteria.

It had been a month after I first spoke to Courtney, and she was apparently still a hot topic at school.

Malibu Barbie is what I called the blonde that Geoff is head over heels, Bridgette. She was weird. A vegetarian, head of the school environmental club, cried when we ate pepperoni. The usual freak. For some reason Geoff found her intriguing.

Gwen shifted in her seat. "I heard she goes to therapy. She takes pills too, 'cause she's psychotic."

"She makes pretty high marks in class." I picked up an apple and stared at it. I wasn't joking- she really was smart, I'd seen her being praised by teachers in class. She soaked up the attention but never bragged to anybody, which was weird; she looked like she wanted to, but almost didn't know how.

Gwen took a bite of her sandwich. "Doesn't change the fact that she's bat-shit crazy. She also looks weird."

I shrugged. "I think she's okay lookin'."

More than okay looking, really. Apparently six guys had already asked her out and she'd turned them all down.

She had big eyes, shaped like almonds, and silky hair that looked soft. She bit her nails but they still looked pretty, all painted green like that. And she took pictures of everything. Right now, her and Malibu were snapping a photo with each other, Courtney holding the camera and laughing with Bridgette, smiling so hard her eyes crinkled a bit.

She didn't ever smile like that around anyone else. Not around me.

I grew to hate that Barbie a little more that day.


	5. You almost fucking died

PART ONE:

* * *

**impression**

* * *

_4- "you almost fucking died"_

It'd been a week since I last saw Courtney. She hadn't been in school because of 'family problems'; pretty vague if you ask me. I got home and opened the door to an empty house. Dad wasn't home yet, as if he ever was. I headed upstairs and into my room, opening up my dresser drawer and picking up the only black sock.

You know, the first time I did heroin is actually a funny story.

Gwen has these friends, like I care to remember their names, who gave me the materials and told me how to cook it. I was incredulous- you _cook_ heroin? They told me everything I needed to know and told me how so I could be a dealer.

Here's the funny part- or, at least, Gwen laughed; _I missed my vein when I was shooting up_. Beginner's mistake, really, and I was fucked up for a few days but I got back on track. Gwen found it humorous.

Geoff did not.

"You almost fucking died, Duncan." It wasn't the first time I had seen Geoff mad, but those times were rare. But Geoff was just over reacting.

I'd been doing it for six months and I was fine.

I was skinny, yeah.

I was boney, sure.

And sometimes it felt hard to breath and like I was going to pass out, but I am perfectly fine. It's just a few side effects. It's not like I did it on the regular; just every once and awhile.

I've had to cut down, recently, since Geoff threatened to not be my friend anymore if I didn't stop. He asked who gave me directions to get involved in this mess and I just couldn't tell him that it was Gwen. We'd been a trio, for like… forever. Since second grade, when we were just starting out. When Gwen would laugh when I push her on the swing, when our greatest adventure was finding dog poop in the sandbox and Geoff would always sneak us strawberry flavored gum from his moms purse.

He just didn't realize Gwen did it because she'd been on it since seventh grade, she's always been skinny, boney, pale. She was like, a perfect candidate for heroin.

It was quiet, then.

I was really, really tired.

Dad came home, I know he did, but I didn't worry about him finding me like that. He didn't check on me much, since I told him I needed personal space and that I was fucking fourteen now, no need to baby my ass. Not like he ever checked much before I yelled at him.

Sometimes, I wished he would come up here. Just once.


	6. But she's cool

PART ONE:

* * *

**impression**

* * *

_6- "but she's cool"_

It was a week later when the chemistry teacher gave us our first project. Courtney said we could go over her house to do it.

At the lunch table that day, Geoff tried to serenade Malibu and Gwen asked what I was doing this weekend.

_"Oh Bridgette, you're freakin' awesome and cool_

_And no I swear I'm not a tool_

_Well maybe I am a little bit_

_But I'd be willing to be your eight inch wrench_

_Yeah, you heard me, I said eight inches~"_

Ignoring Geoff's shouts I shrugged at Gwen. "I got a project to work on with Courtney. And I think I'm going to go to the skate park, maybe."

Gwen narrowed her eyes. "You're going to her house? I told you she's crazy!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, get off it. I know she's weird, but she's cool, too. Don't get yer panties in a wad." Gwen tried to keep talking but was interrupted when Geoff came up to me with a look of jubilation on his face. "Ya gettin' laid this weekend, Geoffrey?" I laughed.

Geoff smiled. "She told me she'd do anything I wanted if I stopped singing!"


End file.
